The Sight
by MademoiselleEnjolras
Summary: Éponine Thénardier did not appear to be special. To everyone she was the poor girl with criminal parents. She was a lot more than that for she had a gift: the ability to see and communicate with the dead. Modern AU; E/E
1. The Sight

**A/N: I know I already **_**Mon Mystérieux Sauveur**_** going on and I will continue to write for it, of course, but I got this plot bunny while at work today and I just HAD to start it. It is not going to be a long story; I'm estimating about five to seven chapters. I really wanted to do a Modern AU and I was watching a Ghost Whisperer marathon this weekend and I just had to start this. I hope you all enjoy it. Also, my prayers are with all those in Boston. Please stay safe—my thoughts are with you all.**

**Summary: Éponine Thénardier did not appear to be special. To everyone she was the poor girl with criminal parents. She was a lot more than that for she had a gift: the ability to see and communicate with the dead. Modern AU; E/E**

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Chapter One: The Sight

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She had been five years old when she first saw a spirit. It was not a sight one so young forgot easily. The man was pallid, his face blank and he had a huge gaping hole on his chest. Éponine had screamed and screamed and screamed until her mother had burst into the room and smacked her across the face for being a "loud, little brat".

She never screamed again.

The older she grew, the more frequent she saw them. They were everywhere she went. Whenever she walked through the busy streets of Paris, the hallways at school, in between shelves at the library, she was surrounded by spirits

Sometimes they spoke to her; sometimes they ignored her, just like the living. The more spirits she saw, the more she learned about them.

For example, she learned that spirits do not only reside in places where they died; they were able to travel and move around to other places. Spirits were also able to manifest as they looked when they first left the earth—gaping wounds or pale and empty faces. Those spirits scared Éponine the most. The brunette rather preferred it when they showed themselves in the form they were most happy in when they were alive.

She also learned that the dead did not "haunt" people or places because they just wanted to scare the living. They did it because they wanted to be noticed.

Growing up with the burden of being to communicate with the dead and having two criminal parents that did not give a rat's ass about you was no easy feat.

From a young age, Éponine had to learn to care for herself. She did all the cooking, the cleaning, watched out for Gavroche and Azelma, and kept up her grades, all while attempting to ignore spirits that wanted her to give their loved ones messages from the other side. When she got older, her parents wanted her to take part in their scenes; she always refused and took a beating in turn.

Eventually, her parents were caught and sentenced to prison. She and her siblings were sent to different foster homes. An eleven year old Azelma and eight year old Gavroche were sent to live with the Gaston family which consisted of a friendly, middle-aged couple and their then sixteen year old daughter, Musichetta.

Fourteen year old Éponine was sent to live with the Valjean family. It consisted of the kind monsieur Jean Valjean and his adopted daughter Cosette that was only older than Éponine by two months. Jean Valjean had been a social worker that saved Cosette from an abusive foster home she was put in after the murder of her mother Fantine.

The Gastons lived in Caen which was about three or four hours from Paris; Éponine did not get to see her siblings often, but she was glad that the Gastons allowed Éponine to visit occasionally and even came to Paris to visit her.

The Valjeans had been very generous to her. When Éponine had first moved in, she was closed off and shut out any act of kindness Cosette and Jean showed to her. She was still upset that she was separated from her siblings and angry at life in general. It did not help that the spirit of a young woman that looked to be in her late twenties—Cosette's mother—kept on asking Éponine to relay a message to Cosette.

"Tell Cosette I love her."

"JUST LEAVE ME ALONE!" She had shrieked and finally her pent up anger, frustration, and sadness caught up and she began to cry. There was a soft knock at her door and because of her loud sobbing she did not see the blonde head poke in.

Cosette bit her lip nervously but she walked in nonetheless and sat beside the crying girl, putting her hand on her back comfortingly. Éponine ceased her crying and tensed for a moment. When Cosette continued to stroke her back soothingly, Éponine let herself relax and she let herself pour out her emotions; emotions that she had pushed back for Lord only knows how long.

Once the brunette had calmed down considerably, the two were just sitting in silence. Éponine had sat up and wiped at her cheeks, her face once more to its cold mask.

"You probably won't believe me, but your mom told me to tell you she loves you." Éponine had said it so bluntly and with no conviction, it sounded like she didn't want Cosette to believe her.

Cosette had inhaled sharply and looked at Éponine with furrowed eyebrows. The brunette ignored her and continued to stare at the wall blankly—really she was looking at Fantine that was gazing at Cosette with sorrowful, brown eyes. Cosette eventually lowered her gaze and nodded, almost to herself.

"I believe you."

It was Éponine's turn to be shocked. "You do?" Cosette nodded once more and shifted a bit on the bed beside Éponine.

"I've noticed small things Éponine. How when you're looking off into space, it isn't as if you were looking at nothing but at something. How you always seem to mutter things under your breath. To anyone it would seem you were talking to yourself—but to me it always looked as if you were speaking to someone else." Éponine turned and looked into Cosette's blue eyes. She told her everything; she was the first person she told of her abilities.

Cosette believed her. From then on the two had formed some form of a friendship. Slowly, Éponine had grown to care for the blonde and for Monsieur Jean. He provided her with shelter, food, clothing, education, and despite the fact that she told him it was completely unnecessary and refused to accept it at first, a new cellphone and a laptop. (He had used the excuse that the cellphone would be needed in case of an emergency and the laptop was crucial for schoolwork, but Éponine was no fool; Jean Valjean had a habit of spoiling the two girls.)

Now she was eighteen years old and was soon to start her first term in her first year of University. Musichetta had moved to Paris two years ago to attend university and she had gotten Éponine a great job at a local café, not far from campus.

It was Éponine's plan to earn enough money to be able to move out of the Valjean family's home and rent a flat even though Valjean insisted she stay until she at least finished her schooling. The brunette could not live off their kindness forever and she had to become independent.

She was forever grateful to the Valjeans; they had not tossed her out on her bum when she turned eighteen and she was glad she had scored a full scholarship for she would not have to depend on their generosity to further her education.

Her plan was simple: she would go to school, get good grades, work, rent out a flat, and eventually, she hoped to be able to live with her siblings again—all while avoiding uneasy spirits.

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Another roll of thunder and the darkened skies above the city of Paris was illuminated by lightening. Éponine was an hour early, but she would rather be early than late to her first day of work.

Ignoring a man in a French army uniform circa World War I, she continued on her way to the historical Café Musain. The café was home to the student uprising of 1832 and the students that organized it had spent many evenings planning it all in the upstairs backroom of the café. Despite no one being allowed up there, a lot of tourists made their way to the café around June.

The winds were strong and were tugging Éponine and her umbrella from the desired direction with every step she took.

Finally arriving at the café, Éponine entered and spotted Musichetta at the counter already, her long auburn hair in a tight bun. Her blue eyes were transfixed on a Vogue magazine; thankfully the café was still empty.

At the sound of squelching shoes and a long sigh, the tall Musichetta looked up from her magazine and smiled excitedly. "'Ponine! You're—," She took a brief pause to glance at her iPhone. "—an hour early!"

Éponine smiled at her older friend and set down her umbrella by the door. She brought down her hood and shook out her long, dark curls. "I know, I thought I would maybe get some work done before I punched in."

Musichetta nodded understandingly. "Of course. It's going to get pretty packed up here soon. Why don't you head to the room upstairs?" She turned and got a ring of keys.

"Didn't Madame Le Roux say it was off limits?"

"She's not here is she?" Musichetta winked and tossed the keys at Éponine. She caught them easily. "There's not much up there anyways. Just a couple of empty chairs and empty tables. Try not to let the bloodstain on the wall where the window is freak you out." She ended ominously.

Éponine rolled her eyes and made her way up the creaking stairs. She climbed over the velvet rope and ignored the sign that said _No passing beyond this point_. Putting the key in the lock, she turned it and pushed the old, faded green door open.

The room was cold and when she stepped inside, it was almost comforting. Within the room, she could see as Musichetta mentioned, it only consisted of empty chairs, empty tables, a small, empty bar with bar stools and a dirty looking fireplace. There was little light in the room and Éponine was almost certain there was no electricity in here. She reached in the back pocket of her jeans and got out her lighter. She then lit the lone candle that was placed in the center of the middle table.

The brunette had been unloading her bag of her needed materials when a creak caused her to stiffen. The hairs on her arms were on end and her breath was showing. She mentally groaned.

Someone was here.

Éponine tilted her head to the side and her breath caught in her throat when her eyes landed on the interrupting spirit. Standing by the window, was the tall figure of a handsome man. He had curly, fair hair, a chiseled jaw, and straight nose. His expression was stern, his blue eyes cold but a small curiosity was burning behind the coldness. His plump lips were scowling slightly at Éponine. He was dressed in 1830s period clothing: he was garbed in dark navy trousers, a white shirt, loose navy cravat, and a striking red jacket with a red, white, and blue, tricolor ribbon pinned to it.

A little ways behind him, on the wall, her brown eyes had found a browning smudge and she knew what it was immediately.

The bloodstain.

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**There it is fellow readers. Should I continue it? I just thought it would be fun to do this on the side. I hope it is not all too far-fetched or whatever. Please read and review! Thank you!**


	2. Un échange de mots

**A/N: Wow. That is all I can really say, ahaha! I'm excited to see the wonderful responses this story is getting so far! Thank you to everyone who's reviewed, favorited, etc. You're all awesome. Also, I already started writing the new chapter for MMS and I'll hopefully have that up by Friday night or Saturday afternoon. **

**Also shout out to StarlitWave10 who was the first to point out the "Empty Chairs, Empty Tables" reference I threw in. You deserve a bagillion virtual cookies of your choosing.**

**And to essence of lily, to answer your question, I don't know…perhaps? You'll have to read to find out.**

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Chapter Two: Un échange de mots

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Éponine was not one to engage in conversation with spirits. In fact, she usually tried to avoid it. Very rarely did she ever pass along messages to loved ones or did anything that would cause people to give her even more pitying glances than she already got.

She got enough of them for having two awful parents; she didn't need them because people thought she was insane.

That was why when she blurted out the following words, she surprised herself. "So what's it gonna be? Need me to pass along a message to someone, perhaps keep your lonely soul some company?" She raked her brown eyes over the figure of the man and took in his clothing once more before she spoke again. "Although I doubt it's the first option. I don't think you have any loved ones _alive_."

His blonde eyebrows furrowed at her, his blue eyes looking at her with confusion. "You are able to see me?"

Éponine rolled her eyes and nodded. "Obviously." The man looked at her with a calculating expression on his face. "How is that possible, if I may inquire? I have inhabited this café for years and not a single person has been able to see me."

Biting her lip, the brunette shrugged. She turned back to her bag and continued to search through it. "I know about as much as you do. I've just always been able to see what others can't." The only sound was of rustling paper but the man's spirit was still present. Éponine could feel him.

It was strange; she was now so accustomed to the presence of spirits that she no longer felt them around her most times. With this man though—her senses were prickling and she felt like every nerve was on end.

She felt a cool breeze and looked up to find the man curiously staring at her Introduction to Psychology textbook intently. "Psychology?" He asked quietly and she had to refrain from smiling a bit at his curious tone.

"I guess psychology was introduced a little after your time… I'm assuming you're one of the students that died during the June Rebellion?" The man looked up startled and swallowed hard.

"I am."

Éponine hummed at him and nodded. She did not know why, but she felt the need to continue talking to him. "Do you always spend your time here?"

His startled expression did not waver from his face. "I do. In life this is where I most enjoyed spending my time—this place holds many memories for me. Both good and bad—but I could not imagine roaming elsewhere."

The man straightened up and this time his expression was back to his blank look. He almost hesitated but he spoke up once more. "That book—what is it for?"

Éponine looked back to her Psychology textbook and pushed it closer to herself. She ran her fingers over the cover before answering his question. "It's for my Intro to Psych class. I was planning on reading the first five chapters to kill time but—." She nodded at him.

"_You_ attend classes?" He asked in shock. Éponine couldn't help but be a bit offended at his shock. "Hey—times have changed, _m'sieur_. Women are no longer the 'weaker sex' and we are very much capable of attending classes and learning."

The man raised an eyebrow at her but his face was slightly apologetic. "I meant no offense, mademoiselle. I have not yet become accustomed to the changes that have come with time. At times it is as if I am still in 1832." He took a brief pause and glanced at her from the corner of his eye. "I am glad to see that oppression no longer thrives amongst people."

The brunette let out a scoff. "You would be surprised just how little has changed in terms of oppression. There are still the rich big people who could care less about the little poor people—but at least things aren't as bad as I'm sure they once were."

It was apparent Éponine would be getting no work done and she would be lying if she said she wasn't even a little intrigued by the man; she began to fill up her bag with the materials she had dug out previously.

"So, do you have a name?" She asked bluntly as she zipped up her brown canvas bag.

"You may call me Enjolras, mademoiselle."

"Only if you _please_ stop calling me mademoiselle. I'm Éponine." She smirked a little at the man's obvious discomfort. He obviously hadn't talked to anyone in a very long time, much less a woman.

"Éponine." His low rumbling voice murmured her name, almost as if he were trying it out. "It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance."

"Nice to meet you, too." She squinted at him but smiled nonetheless. She was about to open her mouth when a knock on the door interrupted her. Musichetta poked her head into the door and smiled at the smaller girl apologetically.

"I know you've still got like twenty minutes but I really need you down here. Gabrielle is late and—" Éponine silenced her worries with a friendly flick of her hand. "It's alright. Just give me a few, I'll be right down."

Musichetta breathed a sigh of relief and grinned. "Thanks Ép! Don't forget to lock up and blow out the candle. I do not need Madame le Roux to fire my ass just yet."

"Don't worry, I will." The wooden door closed and the only sound was of Musichetta's descending foot falls on the stairs. Éponine then turned back to Enjolras. "I've got to get to work downstairs. I guess I'll be seeing you around then, Ghost Boy."

Enjolras nodded at the girl with his usual, stern expression. "Farewell, then." The brunette blew out the candle, grabbed her bag, and the set of keys. Without a backward glance at the spirit of the blonde man, she continued to the door and walked out of the room.

On the middle table where she had sat was her Introduction to Psychology textbook. Enjolras walked to it and cautiously grabbed for the cover. He was able to open the book.

He spent the rest of the day and night becoming familiar with the history and different branches of psychology and perhaps he had hoped the brunette would be back the next day in search of her book.

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The next morning Éponine sat in her Intro to Psych class cursing herself to the fiery pits of Hades. Not only had she forgotten her textbook at the café, but she had neglected to read the first five chapters assigned for homework and thus she failed the first quiz of the semester.

Not a good way to start the year. Not to mention the fact that the spirit of a girl about her age kept pestering her throughout the whole thing and she got a couple of odd looks from her neighbors when she hissed at the girl to shut up.

At least she hoped Ghost Boy made good use of her textbook. Maybe she should get him to take her next quiz for her.

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**I know it was short but like I said, I don't plan on making this too long. Or perhaps I might, I don't know. Nothing is certain. I hope this one was to everyone's liking. Please read and review! Your feedback makes my day!**


	3. Enjolras' Story

**A/N: I'M SORRY FOR THE LATE UPDATE. I just want to say THANK YOU all for your reviews and favorites and follows; you're all amazing and keep me writing. It means a lot! I hope you all like this one.**

**This is also a gift to all of you to celebrate! Earlier this week I got word that one of the poems I wrote for a class that was submitted into a contest is being published and I'm getting an award!**

**Also, to **_**sushis**_**, I'm so flattered that you made an account just to review the story! That was so kind of you and thank you for your support! **

**Disclaimer: I own nothing, sadly.**

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Chapter Three: Enjolras' Story

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"I can't keep coming up here to meet you." Éponine told Enjolras seriously one day after classes. She had taken her usual seat at the middle table of the forbidden upstairs room of the Café Musain.

It had been a month since their first encounter and for reasons unknown to her, the brunette had taken a fascination with the spirit of the dead revolutionary. They now had a routine: she would go to classes, rush to the café an hour before work, sneak to the upstairs room, and talk with Enjolras until it was time to clock in.

He never ventured out of the upstairs room. Sometimes she wanted to ask him to.

"Why ever not?" His eyebrows were furrowed in confusion as he looked at the young woman who was nonchalantly picking at a hangnail on her left thumb. "Because one of these days I'm going to get caught and fired. I really need this job—you're lucky you're dead. Don't have to worry about anything." She sighed.

Enjolras scowled at her last sentence a bit. "Do not say that." He scoffed a bit and turned away, his back to her, facing the window where he died. "To be stuck in this timeless loop for eternity is hell. I wish I could be able to take a walk outside and feel the sunlight, be able to eat again, to drink, to _touch_—have my senses awake once more. Death is anything but peaceful."

Éponine was now turned to look at him, hangnail forgotten. She was watching him with a calculating expression, a question on her tongue. "How was life for you when you were alive?"

Enjolras continued to face the window and watched the goings on of modern day Paris. Chattering citizens, beeping cars, endless motion. It amazed him how much the world had changed. He ignored Éponine's lingering question for a moment before opening his lips to answer.

"It was—comfortable. I lived in a flat by myself, attended fulfilling classes, had a group of supportive friends, and was doing what I was most passionate about: working toward a better tomorrow for the people of my country." He sighed.

Éponine huffed a bit. "Well that was brief." Enjolras felt a prickle of annoyance toward the living girl. Did she not see that he was in no mood for talking, much less about himself?

"What would you like to know?" Enjolras sighed.

"Everything."

"I was born the eleventh day of May on the year 1810 in Aquitaine. My family was wealthy; my parents owned quite a number of vineyards and occasionally we would travel to Paris and associate with the _elite_ society." He sneered the last two words. "I never got along with my father. When I was very young I would try to do everything in my power to make him proud—nothing was ever enough. I eventually learned I would never be enough for him so I had to be enough for _me_."

Éponine silently listened to him and continued to watch his back as he was still facing the window. "I left Aquitaine and set off to Paris. My father, despite our disagreements, insisted to pay for my flat and classes as I was beginning university. I befriended Combeferre who then introduced me to Courfeyrac and it was only the three of us." He had turned to face Éponine once more and had a wistful look upon his face.

"The longer I lived in Paris, the more evil I was exposed to. I saw the suffering of the people, heard their cries and I knew I had to do something. I spoke to my friends of my musings and they agreed with my ideologies. Together we began Les Amis de l'ABC. As time progressed, we began to recruit more men who supported our cause: Feuilly, Bahorel, Lesgle, Jehan, Joly—" Taking a brief pause he then uttered a last name. "Grantaire."

He then proceeded to talk about all of his friends: Joly's fear of diseases, Grantaire's never ending drunkenness, Lesgle's bad luck, Jehan's poems, Combeferre's good advice, Courfeyrac's good humor, Feuilly's generosity. Enjolras spoke of their work toward bringing the people a new tomorrow and told her of the barricade.

Told her of his death.

"I haven't left this place since I died. One moment I was standing in front of the National Guard soldiers, facing the barrels of the rifles—heard the shots fire—and then the next I'm standing by this window. I saw my body dangling from it and Grantaire's slumped over the wall—" He stopped talking and glanced over at Éponine who was watching him with furrowed brows and a slight frown.

When she caught Enjolras' eye and noticed he looked uncomfortable with continuing to speak, she sat up in her seat and tried to lighten the mood. "How morbid." She laughed lightly.

"You inquired—" His sentence was cut off by a loud buzzing followed by a sharp chime. The spirit of the young man looked startled as Éponine dug out her cellphone from her cavernous bag.

The university student's brown eyes skimmed the email she had received hurriedly to find that it was from one of her professors reminding her of the essay due in two days. With a sigh, she locked the screen and with a hard plop the cellphone was on the table. She really needed to get started on that.

Enjolras was gazing at the cellphone as if it were an insect of a new species. "What is that contraption?"

Éponine lifted her eyes from the table and was amused to find Enjolras still staring at her phone. "Oh, this?" She picked up the phone with one fluid movement and was even more amused to see Enjolras jump a little.

"Yes—that."

Biting back a laugh, she unlocked the screen and beckoned him over with her hand. He walked over cautiously and stood stiffly behind her.

"Enjolras—it's not gonna hurt you."

"I was never under such a pretense."

Giving him a knowing look, she proceeded to show him the phone. "This is a cellphone. We use it to easily communicate with other people anywhere, anytime—whether it be through call, text, email. Makes life easier."

She pressed various apps on her phone. "See?" Éponine observed as Enjolras took in the changings of the screen inventively. When it seemed that his curiosity was quenched, he straightened and walked back to his spot by the window.

"Pretty cool, huh?" She smiled at him, squinting slightly.

Enjolras was by then accustomed to her use of modern slang; he had gotten educated a week previous when he asked her what some words meant. "It does indeed make matters less complicated but I find that the method of writing letters is of more value."

Éponine let out a laugh and rolled her eyes. "I figured you say something like that." They quieted down for a moment before Éponine decided to broach a new subject.

"Like I mentioned earlier—I won't be able to come up here anymore. And for some odd reason I find that not having our daily conversations would suck—maybe you should get out of here more. Come downstairs when I'm working my shift or come to school with me." She looked at him in what she hoped was a nonchalant manner.

It would be her luck to be rejected by a dead person.

Enjolras stayed silent but internally mulled over her request. He had spent over a century confined to the room in where he died—watched as the world around him changed but never did he step out to observe it firsthand.

He also had to admit that no longer having the company of someone after being on his own for 181 years and having to return to his monotonous routine of longingly staring out of the window into the world he longed to be a part of would not be pleasant.

Éponine was an interesting young mademoiselle and surprisingly he found that he enjoyed her company.

The brunette girl was still looking at him expectantly, nervously chipping her black nail polish. Enjolras sighed and nodded a bit stiffly.

"I suppose I could venture out of this room every once in a while—and perhaps I find myself curious as to how students are educated in this modern society."

"I was hoping you'd say that, Ghost Boy. Classes start tomorrow 8 A.M.—meet me out front tomorrow morning." She told him, getting up and picking up her belongings.

Before she left the room she turned to him and pointed at him with her thin index finger. "Don't be late."

"I find that if I am anything, it is punctual, mademoiselle."

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**There it is! I'm not sure about this chapter but I did my best. I know it's short but I don't have time to write any more. Hopefully I'll have the next chapter out by Monday—I am off school that day and have time to write. If not I was probably distracted by Netflix and was probably too lazy to get off my ass.**

**Any who, please leave some feedback; I appreciate any constructive criticism, it helps me in areas I may need improvement. Your reviews make my day. Also, I'm on Tumblr! Come and feel free to come join me! You guys can find me at the url aar-tveit . (Tumblr) . c o m ! Come and chat with me over there any time!**


	4. Out There

**A/N: I know, I haven't updated in a while, but alas, the new chapter is here!** **I've been getting a good response to this story so far and I know I said I was going to keep it short but I've been thinking and maybe—maybe I just may make it into a full length story! I'm not sure yet. I hope this update is to everyone's liking!**

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Chapter Four: Out There

* * *

He was walking a little ways behind Éponine, observing the crowded Parisian streets surrounding them. There were beeping monstrosities whizzing past, chattering people, and Enjolras was a bit overwhelmed.

Amongst those that were living, Enjolras noticed, were those who were like him. Dead souls wandering aimlessly for eternity.

He finally quickened his pace and was at Éponine's side. On his left, a tall dark haired man walked, seemingly obvious to Enjolras beside him. Éponine turned her head and gave Enjolras a quick smile.

The man on Enjolras' other side seemed to have caught her movement and assumed the smile was aimed at him, giving her a friendly one of his own. "I'm Marius." He called over to her. Éponine's brown eyes widened and her smile turned awkward. "I'm Éponine." She turned to face straight ahead and continued walking.

The dark haired man continued walking in the same direction they were and neared closer to Éponine, to where Enjolras felt the man's shoulder go through his own. Marius blinked quickly, shivering, but recovered after a moment. It seemed to Enjolras that this young man was obvious to Éponine's slight discomfort and was reminiscent of an overly affectionate puppy dog.

The stranger's shining blue eyes looked over the books in Éponine's hands. "Are you headed over to the university?" He nodded toward the approaching campus.

Éponine followed his gaze and nodded. "I am." She also looked at the books in his arms. "I'm assuming you are too."

Marius let out a short laugh and nodded at her. "It's my first day here at the university. I'm a transfer." He let out a swooshing breath. "I'm a bit nervous, I won't lie." Éponine couldn't help but feel a bit sympathetic towards him.

They made their way through the gates of the university and she bit her lip before replying to him. "Well—don't be. I'm sure it'll be alright. If you want I can show you to the administrator's building."

"You're heaven sent."

"C'mon, new guy. It's right over there." She smiled at him and began walking toward the administrator's building, both Enjolras and Marius trailing after her.

* * *

Éponine's first course of the day was Art History which was something she decided to take simply for the enjoyment of it. It was a small class that was only made of Éponine and seven others.

The brunette had arrived a bit early and the only one in the room was the professor who was preoccupied with her laptop and the projector in the front of the room. Enjolras' blue eyes were taking in the room with raptness.

When he saw Éponine take a seat at a desk he approached the desk next to her, glancing at it warily. "If I sit here, will anyone sit on me once the lecture begins?"

Éponine had to press her lips together to keep from laughing. She kept her eyes on the front as she shook her head. "No one sits by me in this class. I can assure you, you will not be sat on." She whispered to him.

At this he sunk into the desk, his posture stiff. Not much later, the few students that took the class began to trickle in one by one. The professor up front straightened her spectacles and clasped her hands together. "Welcome, everyone. Today we will be discussing the Post-Impressionism Art Movement."

Throughout the two hour lesson, Enjolras found his thoughts wandering. Because he had not ventured from the café in so long, he felt like he had to take everything in at once and so he let his eyes skim around the classroom and observe the people—and the other spirit— within.

The dead revolutionary was absorbed by the flickering pictures of art works by different artists he had never heard of projected on the screen up front. Enjolras noticed how Éponine ignored her surroundings and completely focused on the lesson, her hand jotting notes down quickly.

"Van Gogh is amongst one of the most revered post-impressionist artists; his work especially well-known for its vivid colors and capture of emotion—"

The only other spirit in the room was that of an older woman. The green of her eyes was striking in comparison to her white hair and pallid skin. She was hovering behind a young man with fair hair and the same striking green eyes.

Éponine looked up from her notes to see how Enjolras seemed to be doing. "You alright?" She asked him so quietly, her lips barley moving. Enjolras gave her a quick nod.

The brunette's brown eyes looked toward the older woman and she felt goose bumps prickle her arms when brown clashed with green.

"You can see him? You can see me?" She croaked and began to approach Éponine who stiffened and turned her head back to face the front.

"Please, please." Éponine continued to face the front, ignoring the pleading woman. Enjolras glanced at the old woman one more time, before returning his attention to the front of the room.

Although it would seem he was watching the front of the room, he was also watching Éponine from the corner of his eye for the remainder of the lesson.

* * *

The morning had seemed to rush by quickly for Enjolras and whereas once time seemed to drag on endlessly, it was now going by too fast.

It was now noon and Éponine had led him to a quiet little area outside where they were surrounded by trees and shrubbery. It almost seemed as if the loud sounds of the city were muffled in this one little area.

The two were seated on the green grass, Éponine unpacking her light lunch that consisted of a crust-free PB & J sandwich and apple slices. Enjolras watches as she takes a small bite and chews softly; he watches as the sunlight catches in her hair and the wind blows her dark tresses.

For a moment, he lets envy burn in his chest but quickly swallows the feeling. He wishes he could feel the satisfying taste of a meal once more, feel the sunlight on his face, and the wind in his hair. He wishes he could feel _alive_ once more.

Feeling his stare, Éponine looked up and stopped chewing for a moment, wiping her face self-consciously. "I'd thoroughly appreciate it if you wouldn't stare." The brunette rolled her eyes at him slightly and took another bite of her sandwich.

"Do you always eat by yourself?"

The question caught her off guard and she stopped mid-chew. "Uh, yeah." She shrugged. "Besides I'm technically not eating alone today." Éponine threw him a smirk before resuming eating her meal.

Enjolras' lips twitched into a slight smile. "May I ask you something?" He looked a bit hesitant. She raised a brow at him and nodded. "Shoot."

He frowned at her choice of word for a moment before he opened his mouth to speak once more. "Why—why do you ignore the spirits of others but only talk to me?" Throughout the morning he had seen how the spirits of others gravitated toward the girl across from him, all of them asking favors from her. She ignored every single one, continuing about her way as if she didn't have a plethora of dead people badgering her.

"Because you're the first one that hasn't asked me for anything."

"Forgive me, but that is not necessarily a reason."

She let out a long sigh and wrapped the remaining bit of her sandwich in the aluminum foil. "Well—that _is_ partly why I talk to you. I ignore the others because like I mentioned, they ask of me to give their loved ones messages and I just can't do that. I would rather not do things that would call attention to me—I really don't need to be called crazy on top of everything else everyone probably already says about—not that I give a fuck."

He raised an eyebrow at her foul language. Enjolras was just about to reply when he was interrupted by the sound of a tree branch cracking. Both of them turned in the direction of the sound and were met with a smiling Marius.

"Éponine, what are you doing here by yourself?" He stepped closer to her until he stood directly in front of her. She returned the smile thinly and held up the Ziploc bag that contained her apple sliced. "Lunch." She replied simply.

"Would you mind if I joined you?" He looked a bit embarrassed. "I don't really know anyone else and I was looking for a quiet place to eat by myself—"

Éponine bit her lip and decided to take pity on him. She shifted for a moment before reply. "On one condition."

He looked at her a bit nervously. "What?"

"You share those delicious looking chocolate chip cookies."

Marius looked down at the baggy of cookies in his hand and let out a relieved laugh. "Deal." Éponine patted the empty spot on the grass beside her and Marius took a seat.

Enjolras, who was seated on Éponine's other side, though was feeling a bit annoyed at the young man whom rudely interrupted their conversation. To be fair, it wasn't as if he _knew_ Enjolras was sitting there.

The blonde man let out a long and annoyed sigh and Éponine looked away from Marius for a moment to shoot him an apologetic look. Enjolras' stony face softened a bit and began to listen to Marius' enthusiastic chatter. He didn't have anything better to do than wait.

* * *

It was the end of the day and classes were finally over. Éponine and Enjolras were walking away from the campus and were headed in no general direction. "So, did you enjoy today?" Éponine whispered to him as they passed a group of rowdy boys.

"I find that the classes were much more informant than those of my age. It was definitely an enjoyable day, Éponine." He gave her a small smile. "I'm glad you liked it. Does this mean you'll be joining me from now on?" She tried not to sound too hopefully but she would be lying if she didn't admit to liking having Enjolras around.

Éponine spent the days at school usually alone; Cosette attended school at another campus and Musichetta was older than her and had a whole different schedule that did not allow them to be able socialize much on campus; she admittedly felt lonely sometimes. It had been nice having Enjolras around.

"Would you mind it terribly?" He asked her somewhat nervously.

"Not at all."

"Then I would be delighted to."

* * *

**Here it is. I'm sorry again for the wait. Did anyone see **_The Great Gatsby_** yet? I saw it and Oh my Lord, it was beautiful. I love that they stuck to the book mostly, although there was minor tweaking. It was definitely enjoyable and I recommend it to you all! Also, it had Leo DiCaprio; he's just amazing. **

**Any who, I hope everyone liked this update and that it wasn't too bad. I can't wait to see everyone's responses. They make my day! Also, I'm on Tumblr! Come and feel free to come join me! You guys can find me at the url aar-tveit . (Tumblr) . c o m ! Come and chat with me over there any time!**


	5. IMPORTANT AUTHOR'S NOTE

Hi, everyone! To those that thought this was an update, I'm so very sorry. I know it's been a million years and I seemed to have disappeared off the face of the Earth.

I haven't updated any stories in 3 or more months and I'm awful for it. Now this was just an author's note to let you all know I'm not dead and that I'm NOT abandoning any of my stories.

For **The Ship of Dreams**, I plan on finishing that story before August 30th, so expect an update sometime soon! I've taken ages because I want this story's ending to be realistic and perfect and I want it to live up to all of you guys' expectations!

For **The Sight**—I will resume chapters some time after SOD ends.

For **Mon Mystérieux Sauveur**—I'm going to be honest, I'm not sure how to continue this story. It was my first and holds a special place in my heart and I'm determined to complete it. I WILL finish it—just not any time soon. Please, I ask you all for patience! I've thought long and hard about this decision but for now, it is officially on _**hiatus**_. I have some of the next chapter written and I may post it soon but if not, I'm really sorry.

The reason why I haven't updated any of my stories is because I've been in kind of a small funk and had major writer's block. I'm trying to pull myself out of it and get back in the groove. The truth is I really enjoy writing for you guys and I want to be able to do that again for you all.

After August 30th, the updates will continue to be slow, although I'll try to be as quick as possible. I'm starting school again soon—my first year of university—and I'm probably going to be hounded with work.

To close this author's note, I just want to sincerely thank every single one of my readers. You guys don't know how much every review, follow, favorite, etc. means to me.

All I ask is for patience and I hope you all continue to stick around.

Love you all,

Adri (MademoiselleEnjolras)


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